Cold as Ice
by laura.lovedidi
Summary: Hans is sent back to Arendelle, after being judged in his kingdom, to work as an unpaid servant, he lives in the dungeons and is looked after by some guards when he isn't working. That isn't much of a pleasure to Elsa to have him around, putting his nose in what isn't his stuff. But what happens when they finally accept to live together in the same home ?
1. Frosted

The cell he's been living in for the past few months is cold as hell. As he lifts up his head, he distinguishes the frost starting to cover up the walls from the corner of the ceiling, in the darkness of his room.

_Her Majesty might be having some... troubles with her 'controlling-her-powers' thing. _he thinks, shivering as the cold becomes unbearable and he tightens the blanket around his frail, _frosted_ body.

He hears a door clacking, and another flinging open when he closes his eyes, the metallic sound still resounding in his ears. Then, all goes silent. He just waits, for a second, maybe two. When he opens them again, there she is, standing behind the the bars she's firmly gripping in her ice cold hands, leaving a trace of frost over them. He's remembering the last time he saw her being so damn beautiful. She looked _extremely_ peaceful, as if relieved of all the pain of the world, laying beside the bits of her broken ice chandelier. But now, it is different. She is far from looking - for being, even - _peaceful_. No. He can see all the problems on earth reflected upon her oh-so pale face. He stares at her angry-looking eyes, ans he's wondering if it is truly anger, or more likely_ loath_. His thin lips curl into a devilish smirk as he brings his knees closer to his chest and wraps his arms loosely around them, trying to protect himself from the _striking_ cold she generates by her mere very presence.

"So, what owes me the pleasure of _Her Majesty_'s visit ?" the auburn-haired man inquires, his head leaning back against the stone wall behind him. "I thought that you— what did you say ?" he pretends to be wondering, his eyes glancing away from her and staring at something invisible in the cold air. "Ah, yes. That you were 'never coming back to visit such a complete asshole, a murderous traitor who's nothing more than a 'royal shame' for his native kingdom', wasn't it ?" he sarcastically asks, gazing back right into her bright icy blue eyes.

"Nothing **but** an **unwanted** shame..." she corrects, annoyed, her voice as cold as ice. "And stop pretending that you know nothing of the reason that brought me here. I've wasted enough time with your _royal_ ass." she bitterly adds, removing her hands from the bars and crossing them on her chest.

Confusion shadows his face. He doesn't know anything about what she's speaking of, and he's hesitating between replying seriously, for once, or favouring her with one of his signature smirks. The silence filling the room makes it seem even colder than it already is, and the presence of the Snow Queen in the dungeons doesn't help that much.

He stands up and steps forward, pacing slowly in the direction of the door. He throws away the blanket he's been tightly wrapped in for hours on what acts like his bed and puts his hands on his hips.

"I don't." he mutters with a face as expressionless as a stone, standing an inch away from the bars.

"You don't ?" she ironically asks, and she takes a small step backwards.

**_I don't._**_Is she dumb or what ?_ He doesn't bother to reply because he knows she knows the answer. She knows everything, just by looking into someone's eyes. Maybe she's kind of a telepath.

What she doesn't know is that he can read onto somebody's face, too. And what he sees on hers is that it's far from being expressionless. But there's definitely not anger. There's something much more stronger, more powerful. There's hatred. And what hurts his feeling in spite of himself is that it is directed toward him. He's aware that she'll never hate somebody else as much as she hates him. But knowing this is painful for him, even if it seems completely obvious.

"You were the only one working late yesterday. The only one left alone in the kitchens." she states suspiciously, remaining calm. "There was a cake for Anna's birthday, and after you finished your day, it wasn't there anymore. It had disappeared."

"And... ?" he raises a brow at her.

She lets her arms fall to her side and sighs. "I supposed that you are the one who ate it, or, took it away, but never mind, it's not the matter, it just, _disappeared."_ she says, discreetly looking around his cell, in hope - or not ? - to find it here.

"I see... you 'supposed' it was me, or you 'were sure' I was the culprit ?"

His question catches her off guard and she lifts her eyes to look at him.

"Did you really think that your loyal guards would have let me enter my cell with a might-be-enormous birthday cake ?" he inquires, grinning an still staring right at her light blue eyes, the ones it always takes him all his strength to look away from. "They'd have adverted you, Your grace." he spits her title and moves toward her until his entire body is leaning against the bars he had forgotten that were separating them. He roughly grabs them in his hands.

She doesn't respond. She doesn't even move. She swallows the lump in her throat and asks him if he's seen anybody stealing it.

"I got out of the kitchens once, during a few minutes—" he starts, but she cuts him of before he can even finish his sentence.

"Oh, and shall you tell me what you were doing outside of the kitchens during you working hours ?" she simply asks, walking toward him and stopping only an inch away from the bars of his door.

"I went to the toilets, Milady." he declares in a mocking tone, bowing deeply. "Does Her Highness want some more details ?" he says smirking at her when she sighs exasperatedly.

"No, thank you. It will be fine." she mutters through gritted teeth as her eyes become a darker blue, dangerous, threatening.

While she is focused on his emerald green eyes, he reaches a hand between the bars and grab hers, still looking at her eyes and enjoying the surprise being seen upon her face. With a soft yet firm motion, he brings her in closer, until she herself touches the coldness of the bars as she struggles to break free fro her almost-murderer.

"What do you think you are doing ?" she yells, loud enough for him to understand that he'd better let go, but not for the guards waiting at the entrance to hear.

The widest of his smirks on his freckled face is her only answer and he deosn't seem ready to let her go. He glances at her free hand from where he can see frost spreading across the bar she's holding, trying to shove herself away from it, and from_ him_. Her cool touch on his hand starts to become colder than ice, so he finally lets go of her and steps backward. So does she. No word is spoken. She holds her hand near her chest, where it is the safest, and runs away, out of the dungeons without glancing at him ans he hears the sound of her steps slowly fading away until it's completely gone. He lets himself fall on his bed and feels the emptiness of the room, the coldness of the airs, and he stares at the frosted walls and bars where she has laid her hands on, seconds ago.

"Until soon, _My Queen_..." he whispers to himself as he covers himself with his blanket again.


	2. New Start

He hasn't expected her to come back this soon. He hasn't expected her to come back ever again. At the beginning, he knew she would visit him, someday. But after two weeks of loneliness, he has found himself doubting about it, left with his very mind and thoughts for only company in this icy cell of his.

"I've heard that you've been behaving quite well, lately." she declares, slowly opening the door under the bewildered gazes of the guards who are guarding him since she has ordered them to.

"Your Majesty—" one of them attempts to reason with her but is interrupted by her dismissive voice.

"I'll be fine. May you wait outside, please ?" she requests, but it's sounds more like a command.

The two guards exchange confused glances, but obey nevertheless.

It's the very first time she enters his cell. She's always remained _outside_, the bars separating them securely, for some reasons that seemed more than obvious for him.

He's still staring at her, just as he's accustomed to.

"I guess so..." he remarks, leaning back against the wall, hands on his hips. "It is to say that I haven't got many things to execute for these past weeks."

"You searched for it." she simply states, taking a few steps forward.

He spares her a smirk, and inquires instead. "Have you found the thief of your sister's birthday cake ?"

"Yes." she replies harshly. "It was one of the servants. We've fired him." she clarifies, and by the grimace on her face, he can say she hates to admit it.

"You would've loved to prove it was my doing, wouldn't you ?"

"I beg your pardon ?"

"You've heard well the first time I said it." he blurts out, now leaning forward, closing the distance she's been keeping between them.

"Well, forget it.. I came here for two reasons, Hans." she explained calmly. "First, there is something I wanted to know." she continues with a face devoid of any kind of emotion.

"Feel free to ask, _Your Grace_." he mocks, reaching a hand in her direction.

She steps out of his reach. "That's what I intend to do. Would you really have cut my head off if Anna hadn't come into your way ?" she demands, her fingers intertwined before her.

"You don't have a clue, do you ?" he crosses his arms on his chest and stares at her defiantly, the widest of his smirks planted on his face.

"Has anybody ever told you that it is considered rude to answer one's question with another question ?"

"You've just done the same, _Milady_."

"Ugh. Never mind. So, I want to hear it form your very mouth." she dismisses the topic and goes back to her initial question.

It's kind of amusing him, the look of exasperation she wears each times she comes to see it, as forced to visit her prisoner. And he's too busy analyzing her face and slightest move that he hesitates to answer her. _Again._

"Of course I'd have." he hisses, observing her reaction. As there's none, he keeps on going. "Maybe I'd be living with an unbearably heavy burden on my shoulders, and maybe I'd want to _die_ every day of my miserable life, and throw myself from a balcony, or whatever, I'd have done it. At this very moment. Perhaps if it had been a few minutes before, or a little while after, I wouldn't have. But the way I was feeling at _this_ moment would've tell me to end _your_ life."

The silence that follows is dreadful.

_Happy ?_ that's what his mind is yelling, wanting him to say to her as she seems not to be upset by the reality he's just spoken. A reality finally revealed.

"That's all I wanted to know." she solemnly declares. "Now I'm fixed."

He understands she doesn't want to push this topic any further. As she heads to the door, she spins around and faces him.

"I almost forgot." she begins in a half-voice. "You'll start working again tomorrow in the morning. You'll be a stable boy, neither Anna nor I want you in the castle except in this cell. Some guards will bring some proper clothes and things for you to freshen up. They'll explain to you where to go and who to find."

She gives him a quick glance by the corner of her eyes. "Try not to ruin this chance we've given you."

Before he can even open his mouth to say anything, she looks away and leaves without a word, the lock of the door clicking behind her. As the sound of her footsteps fade away, he hears some getting nearer.

_I guess it's time to face my fate !_

He doesn't move.


	3. Sunflower

Horse riding makes him feel good. For a while, he can forget than he's nothing more than a prisoner who's going to be locked up between four walls as soon as his work will be done. He still hardly understands why _Els_—the Queen trusts him enough to allow him to go out of the village with the horses he's supposed to take out for a walk, alone. No guards, no _chains_.

He could run away, escape with one of the horses of the stables and meet his freedom again, live outside like he's always wanted, breathtaking landscapes spreading before his eyes so that he won't regret anything that's happened. Splendid sunsets as the ones he's known in the the Southern Isles , and what he saw in Arendelle. And the one he's actually watching on the North Mountain, and he's wondering which are better between those back in his kingdom, and those here. Sleeping under the starry sky just like he used to as a child would be wonderful.

_Free again._

But it feels wrong, in some way. He is given a second chance, a chance to make it through without being harmed, a chance so many has longed for and never got. He isn't going to throw it all away. Although he doesn't really knows what's retaining him from acting so. The poor souls of other prisoners isn't the reason why he would accept to locked himself away from the world like a lion in a cage.

As the sun starts to bury deeper and deeper into the horizon line, the sky loses his colours and Hans brings the horse to a slow pace.

"Calm down, Sunflower, I'd rather stay on your back than end up the nose buried under that thick layer of snow. Not that I don't like snow, I enjoy it very much, but not right now." he declares nervously, realizing soon after how stupid being embarrassed around a horse is.

He turns around on the saddle, laying a hand on the mare's croup to support himself and takes a few seconds to consider the distance they've covered since they began to gallop. His eyes widen as they travel up and down the hoof marks decorating the immaculate snow. He repositions himself on the saddle, the reins in his hands, glancing at the horse's head.

"Whoa" is all he can mutter at first, "you're some of a fast runner, aren't you !" he compliments, running a hand through that mess of his thick and dirty auburn hair that covers his forehead and eyes, and he pushes it backward.

He shall think to ask the guards to freshen up, still, a prisoner can take care of himself not to look and smell like that reindeer-man who, he thinks, could take a bath more often because, contrary to him, he has got his personal bathroom in the castle.

Sunflower neighs in agreement. Hans likes that sound, He finds it cute, the only way they have to communicate. Still, he can't prevent himself to wonder if it's about their travel, or the smelling of this Christopher, if he recalls well.

"Yeah, you understand me, don't you ?" he asks in a low voice while patting the mare's neckline.

A slight move of her ears indicates that she's heard him, followed with a nod of her head. It's quite funny to see how it moves from up to down while snorting.

Horses _are better than people._

_They've always been._

They've been his only friends when his human sibling neglected him. He felt much more close to them than to his family. He used to wonder if he was born somewhere else in the forest, between stallions and mares, and if he was as wild as they were. But he understood when he grew up that he made no sense. He was indeed, as painful as it was for him to admit it, born in a family that doesn't love him.

His heart was always with the one he considered as his true brother, _Sitron_. It was for him the best thing he had ever got in his whole life. He was merely a foal, whom Hans' parents had found lost in the forest and had brought back to their thirteenth son. It was a good opportunity for them not to waste money to purchase another Fjord horse for him. Bit it didn't matter for him. It was his horse and as they grew up, they became more and more attached to one another and never left each other's side. Whenever he would appear through the main doors of the castle, the foal was there and followed him wherever he would take them, and it continued like that as the years passed by. Sometimes, it was the horse who decided where to go, and he would always go back to the stable when it was time for dinner. Hans had even tried to bring Sitron to his chambers once, but with twelve older brothers who despised him, he didn't stand a chance not to be seen, and he got severely punished.

Now where is he ? He thought he would still be in the stables here, but Sitron remains nowhere to be found, like he has escaped from this kingdom he used to call _cursed_, when he first got back here. Has his father brought it back to the Southern Isles ? He can give his whole world to find him. He has never given up on him, so he will do the same. When the time will be right, he'll have to go look for him.

Nevertheless, right now, he must admit that riding Her Majesty's mare is much appreciated from him. Just like _she _is, Sunflower is delicate and regal, she holds the posture of a true royal horse. No doubt that she's Elsa's horse. Although she runs very fast - but not as fast as Sitron, of course - she never rushes the ride and keeps a constant speed. It's a pleasure to mount her.

"Wanna go back home, Sunflower ?" he says as the castle comes in sight. "Ya !" he yells and brings he to gallop again.

It feels like flying. _Freely_. He's free from any links that will restrict his wrists and his ankles, minutes later.

And as they flee full speed to the stables, he think of the horse's name. _Sunflower_. It sounds kinda weird for some Ice Queen's horse. _Snowflake_, or _Frost_ would've be more accurate. Every name would be more accurate but _Sunflower_. He'l have to remember to question her about it when they'll meet again. But that is another thing to think of, when she'll come to visit him. That he doesn't know, she's too unpredictable, he thinks about that as he dismounts the mare and starts to pull off the saddle and the bridle.

That he'll never know.


End file.
